


A Shell Forgotten (With Its Memories)

by TheGaySmurf



Series: Life Is the Moments We Make (The Seconds We Take) [16]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Gen, I love their brotp, Prompt Fill, especially with a side of feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 16:37:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20678534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGaySmurf/pseuds/TheGaySmurf
Summary: Prompt:  "The power went out.  It's not the end of the world."Set a week after the events of 3x06, a day (and a half) before the beginning of 3x07.





	A Shell Forgotten (With Its Memories)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarienPlays6688](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarienPlays6688/gifts).

> Prompt fill for @darienplays6688
> 
> This fic makes reference to a previous Nicole/Jeremy BROTP fic I did, called [Gimme That Fire (Burn, Burn, Burn)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15251562) . You don't need to have read it to understand this one, but it can't hurt if you want to catch the subtle callbacks.
> 
> Fic Title: "Bother" - Stone Sour

It’s hard to be festive in a town like Purgatory. Even the name suggests that happiness will always be just out of reach.

Ringing in the new year doesn’t really feel like something worth celebrating. Not with Dolls gone and Alice hidden away and Nedley going off the rails. And they haven’t heard from Doc in a full week, ever since he walked out on their Christmas dinner.

Jeremy has been spending more time than usual in the Black Badge office now that Bulshar and his beekeeper oompa loompas have been forced to relocate his Murder Tree Factory after Robin was rescued and brought safely back home. Nicole can tell that he’s holding Robin at arm’s length now, despite how obvious it is he’d rather be_ in_ those arms, because he’s afraid to get another innocent person dragged into their perpetual shitstorm.

Mama spends her time flitting around the homestead with a big smile on her face, but it doesn’t reach her eyes and makes her look more suspicious than Marshal Dolls had when he first moved to town. The Earp sisters are too blind to see it, too caught up in the belief that they might finally be putting their family back together one piece at a time, but Nicole has always been exceptional at reading people, and Michelle is throwing up red flags quicker than a matador in the Plaza de Toros. 

She’s hiding something. Something _big._ Nicole just hasn’t been able to figure out _what_ yet. She’s also not doing a very good job of hiding the restlessness that’s rippling just beneath the surface, either. Nicole has seen it far too many times not to recognize the symptoms. She’s getting ready to run, and Nicole can only hope that the inevitable fallout doesn’t break her girls beyond Nicole’s ability to repair them.

Nicole will be starting on the campaign trail as soon as the holiday is over, and she really should be working on posters and buttons and speeches full of promises that this cursed town will probably never let her actually keep. Her appointment to Sheriff isn’t official yet, and she doesn’t want to leave anything to chance.

And Wynonna… Well, Wynonna’s idea of a New Year’s Resolution is to never let her blood alcohol level drop below the legal limit. She’d rather be holed up in the barn with her whiskey and self-loathing, ruminating on all the ways she continues to fail the people she loves.

But Waverly had insisted on a party.

And no one in this god-forsaken town knows how to tell Waverly Earp _no._

So here they all are, awkwardly gathered at the homestead, with a bowl of well-spiked punch and platters full of snacks and ridiculous party hats and poppers and steamers hanging from every conceivable surface. Waverly’s newest pop obsession rings out through the speakers, making Nicole cringe a bit, but at least feeling the bass line thumping in her chest helps to ward off the chill that hangs in the air from the blizzard that’s raging outside, whitewashing the darkness and drowning out the moonlight.

Things are going fine.

Mostly.

As fine as anything can really be in a powderkeg of a situation. 

Wynonna’s drinking and above-average irritability, presumably owing to Doc… and something _else_ she seems to be keeping under her hat – or more likely, in her pants – these days. Mama’s thinly-veiled sarcasm about every positive thing this group is desperately trying to hang on to, especially when it comes to Nicole’s place among them, and now also her sideways glances at the two newest additions.

Robin’s strange fascination with the Christmas tree and all of its trimmings that are still up from a week ago, particularly the pine cone garland, which Nicole is nearly certain she saw him pluck several seed scales from, followed by a loud crunching sound that didn’t fit with any of the snacks Waverly had set out on the food table. Jeremy’s nervous energy, more obvious than usual, mostly directed at having Robin present, but also with a wary eye constantly on the enormous, sticky snowflakes painting wet streaks against the outside of the frosted windows.

Things are _fine._

Until they aren’t.

The faint click that always signals the sudden halt of electricity through the lines might as well be a gunshot with the way it echoes around the enclosed space of the homestead. An eerie silence immediately follows, a stark contrast to Waverly’s music pouring through the speakers, and even the constant hum of the house – like a heartbeat proving that it’s _alive_ – leaves behind a warped void that temporarily swallows all of the sound around them.

It’s disconcerting, in a liminal space sort of way. 

The few short seconds of silence stretch for an inordinate amount of time – like a rubber band pushing the limits of its threshold – before snapping violently back into place.

Waverly and Robin groan with disappointment in the sudden darkness. Mama makes a disgusted noise deep in her throat, and Nicole can picture the way she’s rolling her eyes, despite there being no light.

Wynonna puts together a string of obscenities that’s far more impressive than any of the strings of festive banners Waverly had hung around the room.

But the worst of it comes from Jeremy.

His voice is sheer panic as he begins to ramble incoherently, and Nicole tracks his movement in the darkness, following the loud shuffling of his frantic pacing. 

“Jesus fuck, Dr. Voldemort. The power went out. It’s not the end of the world.”

_“Wynonna,”_ Waverly scolds. It’s immediately followed by a soft thump and a loud hiss, which was almost certainly an elbow to the ribs. “And also,” Waverly adds matter-of-factly, unable to help herself. “Voldemort wasn’t a doctor. He was a dark wi—”

“Waverly…” Nicole cuts in gently. She waits a beat in the darkness. “Time and place…”

“Right, right.” She feels soft fingers trail down the skin of her forearm beneath the cuff of her sleeve, resting snugly at her elbow. “Sorry,” Waverly says sheepishly.

Nicole feels Robin shifting beside her, making a move toward the rapidly-spiraling Jeremy, but she reaches out and stops him with a hand to the shoulder.

“Why don’t you help Waverly find some candles and get a fire started in the fireplace.” She squeezes his shoulder gently. “I’ve got this.”

“Uhh… yeah. Yeah, okay.” She can tell he’s concerned, but she feels him relax slightly under her grip. “Thanks, Officer Haught. Umm… I mean _Sheriff_ Haught.”

“Nicole will be fine,” she says, smiling into the darkness. With one final squeeze of his shoulder, she nudges him toward the kitchen, where she can already hear Waverly rummaging through drawers to find the matches.

Turning toward Jeremy, Nicole approaches him slowly, muttering a curse under her breath when she bangs her shin against the coffee table she’d misjudged. He’s fidgeting with his phone, his face lit up like a child telling ghost stories around a campfire, but his hands are shaking too much for him to successfully find the flashlight app. He’s still mumbling, too quick and too low for Nicole to actually make any of it out, but she has a pretty good idea what this is about.

“Jeremy…” she calls softly, not wanting to startle him. He doesn’t respond, continuing to pace in front of her. She reaches out to catch his elbow as he passes, carefully leading him away from the rest of the group, over to the stairs, where they can sit without worrying about knocking things over.

Nicole can feel his entire body vibrating, and she leans a little closer, so that her shoulder and arm and leg press reassuringly against his side. He lets his face fall into his hands, his phone forgotten, still ignoring all attempts Nicole makes at trying to break through to him.

“Do you still get the nightmares?” she finally asks, and he goes rigid next to her.

“How…” His head snaps up and whips around to face her. Waverly has a few candles lit on the food table now, and Robin has managed the beginnings of a fire, glowing softly in the hearth. Nicole watches the faint glint of Jeremy’s eyes dart around the room nervously. “How do you know about that?”

“I get them, too,” she says so low that only Jeremy can hear as she reaches out to take his hand in hers. It’s cold and clammy, and she feels the warmth of her own hand slowly start to seep into his skin. 

“You… You do?” She can see the shadow of his Adam’s apple bob in the flickering light as he swallows thickly.

“Of course,” she admits plainly. “It’s always worst when the darkness comes.”

“Is it…” He shifts uncomfortably, but doesn’t make a move to withdraw his hand from hers. “Is it that night… in the forest?” he finally asks.

“Yeah,” Nicole breathes, her own head hanging slightly as her shoulders slump forward a little to mirror his position. “I had them for years when I was younger. They finally went away when I was in high school.” She looks away from him for a moment, fighting the burn behind her eyes. “But ever since the… the…” She looks back at him, shrugging one of her shoulders. “Well,” she says gruffly. “They’re back now.”

Jeremy nods, uncharacteristically quiet in the moment. The house around them is still silent, save for the soft hissing and popping of the fire Robin continues to stoke, and the muttered grumbling coming from Wynonna’s corner. Nicole can tell Waverly is running interference for the two of them over here on the steps, and her gratefulness for that causes a faint warmth to bloom in her chest, welcome against the cold memories of the massacre in the woods just over twenty years ago.

“It started with a blizzard like this,” Jeremy finally says, breaking the silence unexpectedly. Nicole pulls herself away from the images of the man dressed in black leathers, his manic smile glinting in the moonlight while she shivered, alone, beneath a nearby canoe. Her vision swims for a moment, but then comes into focus on the hard lines set deeply into Jeremy’s forehead.

“Your accident?” she prompts gently when he fails to continue. 

“Yeah,” he nods. “My mom…” His voice trembles every bit as much as his hand does where it still rests in Nicole’s.

She gives him a minute to collect himself, letting him draw strength from her presence and her patience.

“I was eleven,” he eventually says after clearing his throat roughly. “It was snowing out – it had been for most of the week – but we were supposed to go to this stupid awards banquet…” His voice cracks, and he drops his head into his free hand, his entire body shuddering.

“Hey,” Nicole soothes, bringing her other hand up and using both of them to squeeze Jeremy’s hand tightly. “It wasn’t your fault, Jeremy.”

“It _was,”_ he snaps sharply. He moves to pull away, but she doesn’t let him.

“It wasn’t,” she says again, firmly. “You were just a kid. It wasn’t your fault.”

He collapses against her and begins to sob. Nicole finally lets his hand go, only to wrap her arms around his shoulders. They stay like that for several minutes, until his breathing evens back out and he pulls away enough to sit upright again. He leaves his head resting on her shoulder, though.

“We went off the road,” he finally manages through a sniffle. “We went off the road, and the snow was so bad, it took them three days to find us.”

“Three days?” Nicole’s eyes go wide, and she’s unable to keep the shock out of her voice.

“Yeah,” he says, still not looking at her. “I was trapped in there with her for three days. The snow drifts covered the windows and everything. It was…” He clears his throat again, but his next words still come out as a whisper anyway. “Everything was so dark.”

“I’m so sorry, Jeremy,” Nicole murmurs, wrapping her arm a little tighter around his shoulders and pulling him closer into her side.

“Storms like this… They make me kinda…” He flaps his hands around dramatically. _“Antsy.”_

There’s a beat of silence, and then he snorts loudly.

“Well. More antsy than usual, anyway.”

Nicole can’t help but chuckle at that, too, but he sobers up again quickly and she follows his lead.

“How do you, uh…” He finally glances up at her. “Y-you know. Deal with the nightmares?”

“To be completely honest,” she sighs, “it’s more like the nightmares deal with _me.”_

“Oh.” Jeremy frowns, and Nicole’s eyes flick toward Waverly for a moment before looking back at him again.

“But the main thing is…” Her eyes soften a little, just like they always do when she talks about Waverly. “The main thing is knowing that I don’t have to face them alone anymore.”

“Oh.” Jeremy’s brow furrows for a moment. He glances over at Robin and then back toward Nicole, and his cheeks flush red in the firelight. _“Oh.”_

Nicole chuckles again.

“I didn’t just mean it like _that,”_ she says, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Oh,” Jeremy says again, like it’s the only word he knows right now. “Good. Because we haven’t… uh… you know…” His hands are flailing around again.

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Nicole says, shaking her head before he can make things any more awkward.

“S-sorry,” he stutters, and she thinks he might be wishing for Wynonna to put a bullet between his eyes with Peacemaker so that the floor would swallow him whole.

“No, it’s fine,” she says quickly. “Just. Um… What I meant was… Now that I have you guys,” she gestures around the room, “a _family_… I know that I’m not alone like I was when I was a kid.”

Jeremy raises a skeptical eyebrow at Wynonna, who seems to be having and honest to god argument with the weather through the window right now.

“And you aren’t, either,” Nicole says, getting his attention as she squeezes his shoulder again. “Alone, I mean. You have us now. All of us.” She eyes Wynonna for a moment. “Even the crazy drunk ones,” she mutters.

“You really think so?” Jeremy asks, sounding somewhere between hopeful and skeptical.

“I know so,” Nicole answers without hesitation. “You remember that fire we talked about?” she asks, tapping her finger to her chest, over her heart.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He flattens his palm against his own chest.

“Don’t forget about it,” Nicole says seriously. “Remember that you’re as much a part of our fire as we are a part of yours.”

He nods his head vigorously, unable to fight the grin any longer. 

Nicole glances over to where Robin is still hovering near the fireplace. He’s pacing slowly, keeping an eye on the stairs, but maintaining a respectable distance, not wanting to intrude. She catches his eye and he stops moving, tilting his head slightly. She smiles and nods at him subtly, and she can see his entire body relax at the gesture.

“Well,” she says, turning back to Jeremy. “It’s probably pretty close to midnight. You should go and get your guy. I think he’s waiting for you.”

Jeremy turns to look at Robin and gives him a little wave before looking back at Nicole.

“My guy…” he whispers, his eyes glazing over dreamily. “He’s _my guy.”_

“Yes,” Nicole laughs. “He is.”

Jeremy pushes himself up off the stairs, still a little shaky, and nearly trips over his own feet during his first steps toward Robin. He stops and leans against the railing, gathering himself for a moment. Before taking another step, he looks back over at Nicole, opening and closing his mouth a few times, though nothing actually comes out.

Nicole reaches up and pats his hand. She nods at him once, and watches the air rush out of his lungs. He pauses for a few more seconds before he finally finds his breath again.

“Nicole… Thanks,” is all he manages to say, but it’s enough.

“Any time,” she smiles back. “Just remember,” she adds, tapping her chest again, “you’re not alone.”

He mirrors her movement, like he’s making a pledge, and then he turns in a hurry and shuffles over to Robin, who greats him by holding out one of his arms for Jeremy to slip under so that he can tuck himself into Robin’s side. Nicole watches them quietly for a few minutes until she feels Waverly approaching from her other side.

“Hey, baby,” she says, letting Waverly’s proximity chase the last of the darkness from her own head.

“You’re amazing,” Waverly says, plopping down on the step next to Nicole.

Nicole quirks a surprised eyebrow at her.

“You are,” Waverly says, grabbing Nicole’s hand and playing with her fingers. “What you just did for him? You’re amazing.”

She feels the heat rising in her cheeks and ducks her head.

“We just…” She glances up at Waverly. “I get it. What he’s going through. Sort of…”

“I know you do, baby.” Waverly leans in and kisses Nicole lightly on the cheek. “I’m glad he has someone like you that he can talk to about it.”

Nicole takes a minute to survey the room. Robin and Jeremy have settled on the floor by the fireplace, leaning back against the couch. Mama and Wynonna are huddled in the opposite corner, and though it gives Nicole a slightly uneasy feeling, she decides not to dwell on it tonight. She and Waverly have a rare moment of privacy, and she takes advantage of it, reaching out to tip Waverly’s chin up until she can kiss her properly for the first time in several hours.

“Alright, mothers and fuckers,” Wynonna yells suddenly, and Nicole groans at her uncanny ability to interrupt. “We’re on the final countdown to midnight, and then I get to make out with this whiskey bottle like it’s 1999.”

Wynonna watches the seconds tick down on her phone, and they all join in on the countdown. Even Mama. 

True to her word, Wynonna shoves her tongue as far into the bottle as she can get it, but Nicole ignores her, finding Waverly’s lips and allowing herself to get lost in the moment, despite the amount of heckling coming from the peanut gallery.

“Well,” Mama finally says, clearing her throat loudly. “There’s no way anyone is leaving in this storm, so it looks like we’re having a sleepover.” Her voice is tight, and Nicole takes a small amount of pleasure from her discomfort. “I’m sure y’all know where the blankets are in this house better than I do.”

“Yeah. And the walls are stupid thin,” Wynonna grumbles, glaring directly at Waverly and Nicole. “So if me and Mr. Jack Daniels hear anything that will scar us for life, coming from _any_ of you…” She swings the bottle around, pointing it at both couples. “Then I will make sure it’s _your_ shoes I vomit in. _Capiche?”_

“Good _night,_ Wynonna,” Waverly says, rolling her eyes and dragging Nicole up the stairs.

Maybe things will be fine after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I love the WayHaught ship and everything about it, but one of my other favorite things is getting to see/write about Nicole interacting with all of the other characters, forming close friendships and family bonds. So if you ever have a prompt that involves a brotp situation with any of the other characters (or for that matter, these kind of relationships between any of the characters, not just with Nicole), please don't hesitate to drop me a line.
> 
> Thank you to everyone for reading. I am always up for questions and discussions.
> 
> You can find me on both Twitter and Tumblr: @iamthegaysmurf


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